Elias Greyson was supposed to be asleep. But he wasn't.
Instead, he was lying flat on his bed in the dim dormitory, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, listening to the muffled sounds drifting through the wall.
Muffled voices. Four of them.
He frowned. The sound was coming from Luca's room. Which meant Luca, Killian, Cassian, and Rafe were in there. Arguing again.
Elias tilted his head, straining his ears. Most nights he ignored them, he'd learned long ago that Whitethorn's golden boys kept to themselves. But tonight… tonight was different. Their voices were raised. Urgent. Almost… angry.
Elias slid quietly out of bed, padded across the hall, and stopped just outside their door.
At first it was just noise, low, tense mutters. But then he caught it. One word, clear as crystal through the crack of the door:
"Old wolf…seventh pact."
Elias blinked. Seventh what? He pressed closer, holding his breath.
